


Fanboy

by The_Audacity



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 06:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30051456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Audacity/pseuds/The_Audacity
Summary: Uryuu meets Ichigo at a concert for one of his favorite bands. Instant chemistry plus chemical enhancer equals one hell of a good time.
Relationships: Ishida Uryuu & Kurosaki Ichigo
Kudos: 2





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Theme song: “Overdrive” by The Anix

Uryuu stopped in the middle of a dark alleyway and squinted at his phone. The little map image guiding him to an exclusive underground club wasn’t terribly detailed. According to the dot on the screen, he should have been standing right in front of it. Glancing around, he saw nobody in sight and nothing to indicate a fun place nearby. He couldn’t hear any music or excited shouts. He didn’t notice any smells of alcohol, piss, or vomit that tended to waft around these types of events. But he could smell cigarette smoke.

He followed the scent around a corner to the adjacent alley with one dim amber bulb lighting the grungy space. Leaning against a red brick wall near that lone beacon stood a disgruntled-looking man with messy orange hair. He was wearing violet sneakers, shredded dark jeans, a bright green v-neck, and a leather jacket decked out with all manner of studs, zippers, rings, and spikes. The metal accessories jingled faintly as he raised black-tipped fingers to take a drag from the cigarette pinched between them.

Seeing Uryuu approach, he challenged, “You lost, kid?”

Although it was true Uryuu didn’t resemble most of those who identified with the punk scene, he was no kid. His plain shoes, tan slacks, white t-shirt, and blue jacket just made him look younger. Normally, his rectangular glasses gave him a more mature edge, but he had left them at home in favor of contacts tonight. Last time he’d worn them to a rock concert, they had gotten knocked off his face by an errant elbow and smashed underfoot.

“I’m looking for a club that’s supposed to be around here.”

“The _Red Rabbit_?” Uryuu nodded. The stranger gestured to a nondescript door on the other side of the alley, smoke swirling from the motion. “You found it.”

Glancing doubtfully between the door and him, Uryuu asked, “Where is everyone else?”

He snorted. “You’re way early, man. Nobody shows up to this kinda thing early.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m with the band,” he explained, looking even more disgruntled by Uryuu’s endless questions. “Our manager’s neurotic about us being on time.”

“Which band?”

“ _Inertia Society_.” He didn’t miss the way Uryuu perked up a bit to hear it. “You a fan?”

That was putting it mildly. They were the whole reason Uryuu had ventured so far out of his local element to search for a back-alley club in the first place. In fact, he realized as he moved closer, he recognized this guy as the lead guitarist. If it wasn’t for his disorientation and the poor lighting, Uryuu would kick himself for not recognizing him sooner.

Shrugging noncommittally, he replied, “Maybe.”

The guitarist shrugged in turn and drew another puff of nicotine. “Well, the concert’s not gonna start for another half hour at least. You might as well check out one of the bars down the block…” He paused, eyeing Uryuu curiously. “Assuming you’re old enough to drink.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“No shit?” he asked in surprise. “You’re only a year younger than me.”

“Or less.” Uryuu knew for a fact it was only five months, but he couldn’t exactly announce that he’d memorized all the birthdays of _Inertia Society’s_ members, in addition to an embarrassing amount of other band trivia. Pointing to the cigarette he held, Uryuu asked, “Can I get one of those?”

“Sure,” the guitarist said, pulling his pack from a jeans pocket and thumbing open the top for Uryuu to take one. He flicked the lid off his lighter, sparked the flint, and held the flame out for him. Uryuu coughed from the first drag, but he didn’t laugh. “First time?”

“Maybe,” he repeated, feeling his cheeks heat.

The guitarist grinned. “You’re cute. What’s your name?”

Blushing outright, he pretended he wasn’t as he replied, “Ishida Uryuu.”

“Kurosaki Ichigo.” He watched Uryuu take a wary drag and exhale successfully. “Come to these sorta shows often, Ishida?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately not. My schedule’s stacked most of the time.”

“Oh?” Kurosaki finished his cigarette and dropped the stub to snuff under his sole. “What do you do that keeps you so busy?”

Feeling self-conscious for some mysterious reason, Uryuu mumbled, “I’m a surgical resident.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” He was looking slightly less disgruntled now, as he took his turn to ask the questions. “So, I guess you’re pretty smart, huh? Not just pretty.”

Uryuu frowned, despite the persistent warmth in his face. “You realize I’m a man, right?”

The guitarist laughed. “Yeah, I figured from the flat chest and narrow hips. Men can be pretty, too, ya know.” Leaning closer, Kurosaki locked gazes as he said, “You have beautiful eyes. Is the blue natural?”

Not trusting himself to speak at the moment, Uryuu nodded. He wasn’t sure what to think when Kurosaki didn’t move away after getting a better look at his eye color. His instinct was to step back, but he realized he didn’t want to. He took a nervous puff of his cigarette and politely blew the smoke away from his new friend.

“These aren’t bad,” Uryuu said conversationally, indicating the bummed cig. “I can see why my father likes them so much.”

“They’re addictive,” agreed Kurosaki. With his focus on Uryuu’s mouth, he added, “Almost as addictive as sex.”

“Is-is that so?” he stammered, taking another nervous puff. Was it his imagination, or was Kurosaki standing even closer than before? “Maybe I shouldn’t start, then.”

Quirking an eyebrow, the guitarist teasingly asked, “Smoking? Or having sex?”

Uryuu coughed again, certain he was red as a tomato, and insisted, “Smoking! I-I was talking about _smoking_.”

He smirked and reached out to pluck the half-finished cigarette from his loose hold. “You’re probably right,” Kurosaki told him, taking one more drag for himself before snuffing that one, too. “Smoking’s bad for you. Sex, on the other hand…”

Putting hands on either side of his waist, he pushed Uryuu against the bricks behind him and stood so close he had to tilt his head back a little to look at him.

“Kurosaki…?”

“Do you like men, Ishida?”

Uryuu didn’t say anything. His heart beat faster, lungs worked harder. The heat of Kurosaki’s palms was soaking through his shirt, making his stomach somersault in anticipation.

“Are you…going to kiss me?”

“Depends. You want me to?”

He swallowed and considered that. It wasn’t a tough choice. Uryuu admitted, “Yes.”

Kurosaki kissed him lightly. Uryuu shut his eyes and reveled in what was shaping up to be the best night of his pathetic life, so far.

“Want me to keep going?”

Without opening his eyes, he murmured, “Yes,” and shivered as Kurosaki kissed him deeply.

One of his hands smoothed around Uryuu’s waist to cradle the small of his back instead. Kurosaki braced a forearm to the wall beside his head and pressed closer still. Uryuu couldn’t help himself. He lifted his hands to touch Kurosaki’s chest. Musicians who played stringed instruments always seemed to have such nice pectorals, he thought appreciatively.

Uryuu found himself appreciating Kurosaki’s lingual ability, as well. He was doing a fantastic job of teasing Uryuu’s tongue without going overboard. He wasn’t rushing, either, which made the entire thing feel more purposeful and less impulsive. It made him wonder if Kurosaki was really interested in him, rather than merely taking advantage of the fact that he was there. What if kissing Uryuu wasn’t just an idle act of boredom?

“ _Yo, Ichigo_!” someone called from around the corner. “ _Where did you_ —”

Kurosaki broke the kiss with an agitated sigh as his fellow bandmate walked into view and halted to discover their sultry scene. It was Hisagi Shuuhei, he identified in a blink, bassist and backup singer of the group. With face tattoos like his, there was no mistaking him for anyone else. The patented black choker he always wore was also a dead give away.

“You’ve got shit timing, Shuuhei,” he reluctantly separated from Uryuu to complain.

“I can see that.” Nodding to Uryuu, he said, “Sorry to interrupt,” and seemed to mean it.

“What do you want?”

“Rukia’s looking for you,” Hisagi reported, referencing their lead singer and the only female of the bunch, Kuchiki Rukia.

“The fuck does she want? We’ve got two hours ‘til our set and the first band on the lineup’s not even here yet.”

He shook his head. “No clue, but she said she’d be pissed if she had to come drag your ass back in from your smoke break.”

Kurosaki rolled his eyes. “Ugh, she’s such a twerp sometimes.” Turning back to Uryuu, he asked, “You’re gonna stay for our set, right? Wanna hang out backstage until the show starts?”

“Um,” he tried, feeling a bit shell-shocked by this development, “yes.”

Smiling encouragingly, Kurosaki took his hand and led him toward the door, saying, “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the gang.”

He felt a lot like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole as he stepped into the _Red Rabbit’s_ murky atmosphere. The main area of the club had a dark interior with walls painted midnight, but strips of vivid red LED lights gave the place a demonic glow. A grunge-goth band’s music was playing from the speakers, but the stage was still empty. The bar was being set up by several bartenders stocking, organizing, and cleaning in preparation for the mad rush to come. There was plenty of open floor space for dancing and moshing. Uryuu couldn’t wait to see it filled with throngs of people avidly expressing their love of great music.

Hisagi branched off on his own while the two of them approached a bouncer loitering near the entrance. Gesturing to his chosen plus-one, Kurosaki said, “This is Ishida Uryuu. He’s allowed backstage. Spread the word, okay?” The bouncer gave Uryuu a stern stare and nodded to show he understood. As they wandered off toward the back rooms, Kurosaki told him, “You can watch the show out here or come chill with us whenever you want.”

Feeling like he’d just been anointed by a demigod, Uryuu robotically replied, “Thanks.”

Something about his unnaturally neutral tone and expression must have tipped Kurosaki off, because he held the door open to let him backstage and paused in the hall to ask, “You okay?”

“I’m—” He cleared his throat when his voice came out weird. “I’m fine. I just never imagined the night would go like this.”

“Like what?”

Uryuu followed as he started walking again. “Like…kissing you and going backstage to meet one of my fav—”

He cut himself off again but it was too late. Kurosaki’s eyes darted to his as he asked, “We’re one of your favorite bands?”

“Second favorite,” Uryuu hesitantly confessed.

“Who’s your first favorite?”

“ _Brutal Amoeba_.”

Although he didn’t look happy about it, Kurosaki conceded, “Yeah, all right. They’re good, too.” Then he smirked and said, “Knew you were a fan.”

He led the way into a green room where Kuchiki and the final member of the band, drummer Muguruma Kensei, were lounging. The dress Kuchiki wore was a dark lacey blue with a cut that complimented her very petite figure. There were thin white and lavender streaks in her long black hair. She had more than enough dainty beauty all on her own to balance out the masculine elements of the band.

As soon as she saw Kurosaki, she popped off the couch like a hot kernel and started shouting at him.

“There you are, you layabout! What took you so long to…” She trailed off to notice Uryuu hovering behind him. “Who’s that?”

Leaning forward for a better glimpse, Muguruma arched a pierced eyebrow and said, “He’s pretty.”

Kurosaki snorted. “Told you,” he muttered to Uryuu over his shoulder.

He made introductions and they exchanged the usual greetings. Kurosaki didn’t mention that he was a fan, which Uryuu was grateful for. He didn’t need another reason to feel embarrassed in this situation.

Then Kuchiki brazenly asked, “So, you’re Ichigo’s date for the night?”

“Um…” he tried, at a loss to respond when he wasn’t sure himself.

“Something like that,” Kurosaki chimed in to save him. “Anyway, what’d you want, Rukia?”

“I wanted to discuss the bridge for our last track.”

“Not this again,” the guitarist lamented, scrubbing a hand through his wild hair to make it even wilder. “I told you, it’ll be fine. I can handle it as-is.”

Stubbornly, she argued, “The chord progression is too intense to play live. Just go with the simplified version this time.”

“No can do, Buckaroo. I’m feeling feisty tonight.”

He brought Uryuu over to the couch and collapsed on the opposite end from Muguruma, leaving him no option but to sit between them. The drummer gave Uryuu a ‘what’s up’ head nod that made his swoopy wave of grey hair flop above his brow.

While Kurosaki and Kuchiki debated in the background, Muguruma asked, “So, how do you know Ichigo?”

“We just met outside the club,” Uryuu explained, not seeing any point in lying about it. “He kissed me, then invited me backstage.”

A look of mild surprise lit Muguruma’s eyes as he chuckled. “Can’t blame him. I’d have done the same if I found you wandering around out there.”

Muguruma openly checked him out, and Uryuu couldn’t resist doing the same. He had more muscle mass than Kurosaki but wasn’t quite as handsome. They both had a rough charm about them, though Uryuu suspected Kurosaki’s bravado was mostly affectation. He had the bark of a big dog but was secretly a puppy at heart. On the other hand, Muguruma gave the impression that he wasn’t the type to hold back once he got riled up. He was a wolf, through and through.

Hisagi walked in to join them, quietly propping against the armrest beside Muguruma. They acknowledged each other, and Uryuu’s gaze lingered after Hisagi’s drifted to the bickering pair across from him. In spite of dressing like the most punk member of the band, Hisagi was gentle and polite. Uryuu had read that about him in interviews. He wasn’t a troublemaker like the others. If anything, he was the one who usually intervened to keep things from getting out of hand when Kurosaki or Muguruma lost their cool.

“I think Ichigo can nail the progression,” Hisagi calmly interjected, proving Uryuu’s theory. “If not, it’s a newer track. No one will notice if the notes aren’t perfect.”

“I’ll notice,” Kuchiki dissented.

“No, you won’t, ‘cause Shuu’s right,” snarked Kurosaki. “I’m gonna nail it, so shut your trap.”

“Are you talking about the bridge in ‘Mirror Nebula?’” Uryuu abruptly asked.

All four of them rotated their heads to stare. Kurosaki confirmed, “Yeah. Why?”

“The note progression has a similar complexity and tempo to the opening of ‘I am Dark Matter.’ Kurosaki hasn’t had any difficulty playing that song live before, has he?”

Kuchiki frowned but agreed, “No, he hasn’t.”

“Then he shouldn’t have a problem with the newer track.”

The four of them were still staring. Uryuu sort of wished he was wearing his glasses so he could distract himself with straightening them.

“He’s right,” Muguruma decided, officially outvoting Kuchiki. “Ichigo should play the original version.”

“Hah!” Kurosaki cheered, turning to grin at him. “Thanks, Ishida.”

Appraising the tips of his shoes, he mumbled, “Anytime.”

“He’s cute,” Hisagi whispered to Muguruma, who nodded agreement.

Uryuu resolutely pretended he hadn’t heard that embarrassing exchange—which was pointless since Kurosaki was smirking at them like he’d heard Hisagi, too.

“Can we at least do a warm-up of the song?” Kuchiki nagged.

“Fine,” sighed Kurosaki.

He grabbed his acoustic while Muguruma held his drumsticks at the ready above the wooden coffee table, and Hisagi grabbed his bass guitar to strum without the amp. Uryuu sat watching and listening at they started playing to accompany Kuchiki’s siren-esque singing. And Hisagi was right: Kurosaki nailed it. His fingers went through an impressively precise series of contortions in a short amount of time, showcasing his practiced dexterity. Uryuu couldn’t help smiling proudly, as if he had any right to feel proud of someone he barely knew, but he felt it anyway.

After the single-song rehearsal, everyone dispersed to do their own individual warm-ups.

Kuchiki took a break in her vocal practice to tell Uryuu, “The first band should be setting up to play right now. You might want to go grab a spot near the front while you can.”

“I’ll go with you,” Kurosaki volunteered and rose to meet him by the door.

“Oh, no you don’t,” began Kuchiki. “Remember what happened the last time you tried to watch from the crowd?”

“He got mobbed by the fangirls,” Muguruma told Uryuu, sniggering at his guitarist’s expense.

“Relax, I’ve got it covered.” Shrugging out of his trademark jacket, Kurosaki pulled on a bland brown hoodie from his bag and zipped it shut with the hood up. Then, he grabbed a large pair of generic black-rimmed glasses that took up a third of his face. “See? I’m incognito.”

Hisagi laughed while Kuchiki shook her head. “Your funeral,” she said and went back to her warm-ups.

“Let’s go,” he told Uryuu, opening the door for him. Traipsing down the hall in step with him, Kurosaki playfully wondered, “Do I look like a nerd?”

“Not as much as I do every day.”

Tilting the plastic frames down his nose to study Uryuu over them, he asked, “You wear glasses?”

“Usually, yes.”

“Why would you do that, Ishida? Hiding eyes like yours behind lenses is a crime against humanity!”

He scoffed at Kurosaki’s melodrama. “If I had ‘beautiful nipples,’ would you say I shouldn’t be allowed to wear a shirt?”

“I can tell you’re joking, but I’m sure your nipples are awesome,” he said with feeling, “and if it was up to me, I’d say you should go nude whenever possible. You’ve got a great body.”

“How would you know? You haven’t seen it yet.”

Uryuu hadn’t meant to add the ‘yet’ part of that sentence, but Kurosaki didn’t comment on the slip. He said, “I just know. You’re ninety-nine percent my type.”

Smiling despite himself, Uryuu asked, “What’s the one percent I’m missing?”

Kurosaki tapped his plastic frames back up his nose and replied, “Your glasses.”

Uryuu’s smile widened as he walked through the door Kurosaki held for him once again. He wasn’t used to being looked after like this. He really didn’t hate it.

They emerged from stage left. The previously vacant club was now wall-to-wall packed with people. Uryuu was caught off-guard by the switch, having expected to hear them from the hall at least. The soundproofing was excellent! Music was still playing from the speakers, but it was a more energetic genre and blaring much louder than earlier. The bartenders were bustling about mixing drinks, pouring beer, and slinging shots. From the side of the stage, Uryuu could see the first band getting into position behind the curtain.

He felt a zing of excitement thrill through him as he tagged along with Kurosaki to the barricade separating stage from audience. Yelling something to one of the security personnel over the noise, he pointed to himself and Uryuu. The guard nodded and moved the gate to let them through. Once they were among the shifting sea of amped up concert-goers, Kurosaki grasped his hand firmly to keep from losing him and led the way toward the front row. Uryuu had never been so close to the stage before. He wasn’t bold enough to wriggle and wedge between people the way Kurosaki was doing to get where he wanted to be.

They made it to the perfect spot just in time for the curtain to go up. The crowd roared as the band started to play. Uryuu felt the sound waves reverberate through him, straight down to his bones. The LED light strips all over the club weren’t glowing red anymore. They were strobing through every color of the rainbow in sync to the rhythm of live music filling the club like an electric storm.

Kurosaki was just as hyped as he was. He danced beside Uryuu and with him, jamming and singing along to the songs he knew. Throughout the set, Kurosaki touched him. Never invasively. Just to keep that physical connection with him. He’d hold Uryuu’s hand or set a palm on his shoulder. A couple of times, Kurosaki touched his side or his back. He didn’t go anywhere near Uryuu’s ass, or even too close to his hips. He wasn’t being _possessive_ , but in a way he was staking a claim to anyone around them who might have been deliberating on moving into his territory. Honestly, Uryuu thought it was kind of sexy. He enjoyed the attention Kurosaki was giving him. Because if he wasn’t ‘incognito’ at the moment, there wasn’t a gay male or straight female in the club who wouldn’t want a piece of him. The man could’ve easily been a famous idol with a bad boy flair if he tried.

Halfway through the second band’s set, Kurosaki leaned close to tell him, “I’ve gotta go get ready. We’re on third.”

“Okay,” Uryuu said and nodded in case he hadn’t heard.

“I’ll come find you after,” Kurosaki promised, and kissed him on the cheek.

But Uryuu grabbed a fistful of his hoodie to yank him forward for a real kiss, right there in front of everybody. He didn’t care who may have been watching. He was proud as hell to be kissing Kurosaki Ichigo, of all people, in the middle of a packed club. Uryuu felt like the luckiest man in the room.

When they separated, Kurosaki took a few seconds to gaze at him, biting his lip longingly before he forced himself to turn and head backstage. Uryuu felt lonely the instant he was out of sight.

He did his best to enjoy the rest of the second band’s show. He really did. But he missed Kurosaki desperately, even as he questioned the strength of his emotions for someone he’d met less than two hours ago. He was Uryuu’s first real-life crush. It was infatuation, pure and unfettered. And he was all right with that, because the day after tomorrow he had to return to his hectic life as a new resident at the hospital his father ran. It was why he had tried that cigarette on a whim. It was why he had let Kurosaki kiss him. So, just for tonight, he wouldn’t hold anything back. He would let Kurosaki take him places he’d never be brave enough to go by himself.

Uryuu’s breath caught to watch the curtains fall. The crowd cheered and shuffled restlessly around him, ready for the next band to come on, but not as ready as he was. He couldn’t wait to see Kurosaki in his full rock-god glory, playing his guitar with all the skill and concentration of a dedicated artist. Uryuu loved that passionate side of him. He always had, back when he first began listening to the band’s music. He remembered watching interviews with Kurosaki and feeling respect for his unique perspectives on musical culture. Uryuu admired his motivation to continually pursue greater heights of creativity with his bandmates, too.

Yes, he was a fan of the band. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also a personal fan of Kurosaki’s.

Finally, _Inertia Society_ took the stage. Uryuu’s eyes sought the only figure he cared about, and felt a warm tingle in his chest to see Kurosaki searching for him, too. Their gazes met and they smiled at each other like a pair of lovesick fools.

He kept glancing at Uryuu throughout their set list, between songs or during breaks. Right after nailing that intense chord progression in ‘Mirror Nebula’ _flawlessly_ , he beamed victoriously and pointed to Uryuu like he was attributing his success to the confidence he felt for having someone stand up to Kuchiki for him. Several of the girls surrounding Uryuu squealed, assuming Kurosaki was singling them out instead. A smug bubble buoyed him up to float on Cloud Nine, knowing that recognition was for him alone.

Uryuu spent the rest of the set standing there, mesmerized and elated, until the curtain fell between them. Being cut off from Kurosaki so suddenly hurt, almost like a physical blow. He knew it would take a while for the guitarist to get back to him, too, if that was still his plan. Uryuu wouldn’t be surprised if he got swept into some other engagement and never saw him again. The notion was so depressing, he stared forlornly out at nothing in particular as the din of a waiting crowd faded from focus.

Then, “Ishida!” he heard a voice dimly call from afar.

Glancing around, he spotted Kurosaki steadily winding his way toward him. He was back in his hoodie and glasses disguise, but Uryuu had no trouble recognizing him this time. It had been minutes since he’d left the stage. Kurosaki must have sprinted to get to Uryuu so fast.

The moment Kurosaki reached him, Uryuu threw himself into the man’s arms and kissed him like crazy.

“You were amazing, Kurosaki,” he praised between kisses. “You played that bridge perfectly.”

Laughing joyfully, he replied, “I had to: I knew you were listening.”

The curtain rose for the fourth and final time. As the headlining band began to play, Uryuu turned to face the stage but invited Kurosaki to hold him from behind. He didn’t use the opportunity to grind against Uryuu or anything objectifying like that, but Kurosaki did take the liberty of kissing his neck. Uryuu didn’t mind it one bit.

Once the concert was over, Kurosaki led him backstage again. In the quiet of the hall, he said, “There’s an after-party for the musicians, if you’re interested in checking it out. The rest of the gang are going, but…” He reeled Uryuu in and stole a quick kiss. “If you had anything else you wanted to do with me, I’d be fine bailing on the party.”

He knew what Kurosaki was getting at, however subtly and non-pressuring, and Uryuu wasn’t opposed. But there was a tiny catch.

“There is one thing I’ve always wanted to try.” Kurosaki smiled, but it slipped to hear him bluntly ask, “Do you know where we can get molly?”

“You mean, like the drug?” Uryuu nodded, trying not to laugh at how stunned he was to see him confirm it. “Uh…yeah, maybe.” Kurosaki took out his phone and sent a text, then gave him another weird look. “You’re not secretly one of those rabid super-fans who seduce artists and lure them somewhere quiet to murder them, are you?”

Uryuu blinked at him. “Okay, A, I’m fairly sure that isn’t a real thing, and B, you’re the one who seduced me. All I did was ask you for directions and a cigarette.”

Kurosaki cracked a self-satisfied smirk. “That’s true. I couldn’t resist. You’re really cute when you’re trying to act cool.”

“Will you do me a favor and stop using words like ‘cute’ and ‘pretty’ and ‘beautiful’ to describe me?”

“Because it makes you blush?” He touched one of Uryuu’s pink-tinged cheeks in emphasis. “You’re even cuter when you blush, though.”

Pushing Kurosaki’s hand away, he corrected, “Because I’m a man, not a maiden. It’s demeaning.”

“I don’t mean it to be,” he told Uryuu seriously, “but if it makes you feel that way, I won’t use those words anymore.”

“Thank you.”

He felt kind of silly for taking a stand after the fact. He knew Kurosaki hadn’t meant to disrespect him by using traditionally feminine adjectives to describe his looks, but Uryuu was sensitive about it. He didn’t know how to explain why to Kurosaki without sounding pitiful, so he let it go.

His phone buzzed a message alert. He read it and notified Uryuu, “I know someone who can get us some med-grade MDMA. Where should we meet her?”

“Depends. Do you want to do it at my apartment or a hotel?”

Kurosaki visibly did a mental double-take and Uryuu knew why. His choice of phrasing was ambiguous, referencing either sex or just the drug. What Kurosaki didn’t know was he’d meant it both ways.

“What area of town do you live in?” Uryuu told him and he nodded. “That’s actually not too far from Halibel’s place. Is there a park or something nearby? I’ll send her the address.”

They returned to the green room one more time so Kurosaki could grab his jacket and bag. He told his bandmates he wasn’t joining them at the party, but he didn’t say a word about his plan to go get high with Uryuu.

As they walked along dark streets toward the subway, he teased, “Sure you don’t want to tell your friends where I live? Just in case I try to murder you?”

Kurosaki laughed. “You’re the one who wants to do drugs with a guy you just met. If either of us is too trusting, it’s you.”

“What makes you think I don’t do this sort of thing often?”

He peered at Uryuu assessingly and decided, “Nah, no chance. You’re straight-laces, all the way.”

It was sort of annoying how right he was. “Maybe that’s why I want to do drugs with a guy I just met. Maybe I’m tired of being straight-laced. Maybe I need a break from being such an upstanding member of society twenty-four/seven.”

The bitterness of his tone must have belied his sincerity, because Kurosaki didn’t laugh that time. He asked, “Is your residency that hard on you?”

“Can’t say for certain yet,” Uryuu said with a sigh. “I start on Monday. But I’ve been told it’s many times more demanding than med school, and some days I feel like I barely made it out of there alive.”

“Yeah? Well, if you ever need someone to come untie your laces, let me know.” Kurosaki offered, smirking at his scandalized expression.

“All we’ve done is kiss a few times and you’re already inviting me to call you for… _that_?” Uryuu didn’t want to say ‘casual sex’ in case he had interpreted it wrong. “What if it’s terrible?”

“It won’t be,” he stated with conviction. “With or without the ecstasy.”

He swallowed against a strong surge of desire, because Kurosaki had said it like a promise and Uryuu believed him.

They took the stairs to an underground platform and boarded a car headed for his neighborhood. Kurosaki sat right beside him on the narrow bench, arms and legs meeting familiarly between them. This time of night, there were few people riding the subway but Uryuu still felt self-conscious about their closeness. Any other day, he would have scooted over. Tonight, he stayed put.

There were three other passengers in the car with them. One was asleep in the corner. Another was listening to music and reading something on his phone. The last was turned away from them, staring vacantly out her window at the flickering lights as they passed by. None of them gave any sign of recognition to see a minor celebrity in their midst.

“Do you get recognized on the street a lot?”

Shaking his head, Kurosaki propped his foot on the seat and leaned casually against his knee as he said, “Not really.  _Inertia Society_ isn’t that mainstream. Besides, when I’m not dressed for a show, I look like anybody else in a crowd. Except for my hair.”

Which, Uryuu knew from his vast reservoir of band facts, was a completely natural strawberry blond.

“What do you do when you’re not with the band?”

“Hobbies and stuff?” He nodded. Kurosaki thought about it. “I’m into photography as a side-gig. My shots aren’t stellar or anything, but it’s fun to walk around looking at things differently. Like a real artist, you know?”

Uryuu didn’t know. He rarely took the time to look at anything differently. But he figured, “That does sound fun. And you are a real artist, Kurosaki. Whether it’s audio or visual art, what matters is the creativity and passion that goes into it. If you’re passionate about photography, you should own it. Be a musician  _and_ a photographer.”

His smile had an affectionate tilt. “Think so? Thanks, Ishida.” That smile held firm when he reached over to twine their fingers and Uryuu let him. “What do you do? Hobbies and stuff.”

He shrugged. “Nothing much. Sadly, the closest I’ve gotten to having fun in the past decade is listening to good music while I’m studying.”

“That is sad,” Kurosaki agreed. “Ever heard of self-care? And I don’t just mean what you do first thing in the morning right after you’ve had one of those dreams.”

Uryuu fought off a flush as best he could. “I try to eat healthy, exercise when I can, and get a decent amount of sleep. Otherwise, I’m lucky if I get to meet a friend for lunch once or twice a week. Before tonight, it had been months since I got to attend a concert.” He lost the fight against his flush to lamely admit, “This was kind of my graduation present to myself.”

“That’s so—” Kurosaki bit his lip to keep from voicing what Uryuu suspected was some variation of ‘cute.’ But he regrouped to finish, “Awesome. I’m really glad you picked our concert.”

Shifting his focus to the floor, he said, “Me, too.”

Kurosaki kissed his cheek. When Uryuu turned to look at him, Kurosaki kissed his lips instead. A small part of Uryuu worried that one of the other passengers would notice and say something hateful to them, but he ruthlessly shut that part out and kissed Kurosaki back. He didn’t have the luxury of feeling ashamed since his time to enjoy this experience was so finite. He could always feel ashamed tomorrow. For now, Uryuu just wanted to feel.

They didn’t stop kissing until their subway car drew to a halt several minutes later.

“Is this us?” Kurosaki asked.

Uryuu nodded and stood to lead the way. He didn’t pull free of the hold, and Kurosaki didn’t let go of his hand.

They began walking to the park together. As soon as he left the warm car behind for the street’s open air, a chilly breeze made Uryuu shiver unpleasantly. His light jacket wasn’t enough to compensate for the post-midnight drop in temperature. Kurosaki noticed and wordlessly shrugged out of his leather jacket to drape over Uryuu’s shoulders instead.

“Won’t you get cold?” he asked, shivering pleasantly from Kurosaki’s lingering body heat.

“Nah. Still got my hoodie.”

Uryuu pushed his hands through the arms to wear it properly and murmured, “Thank you.”

“Damn, my jacket looks good on you,” Kurosaki told him with a grin. “And you’re blushing again.”

“You don’t have to keep pointing that out.”

Once they made it to the park, he picked a tree to lean against while they waited and took out his pack of cigarettes. “Want one?”

Uryuu plucked one from the bunch and stepped closer to let him light both of their cigs at the same time. The dancing flame did lovely things for Kurosaki’s chocolate-brown eyes.

Leaning on the trunk beside him, Uryuu took measured puffs of filtered tobacco and listened to the leaves rustling softly overhead. He was trying to stay in this moment and not think about what would happen when they got to his apartment. His emotional default was a constant low-grade anxiety, but he didn’t want to be anxious over spending time with Kurosaki. From the instant their eyes met in that alley ‘til now, Uryuu was living a dream come true. It would be wasteful of him to taint the miracle with his inherent pessimism.

Besides, he thought as he glanced at Kurosaki’s profile, what was there to be anxious about? Maybe it was reckless to trust him, but he did. Uryuu trusted him enough to take him home and deliberately make himself vulnerable with Kurosaki. Trusted him enough to let him do things no one else had done.

A tall, curvaceous woman with sunny blonde hair and coffee dark skin approached from the opposite side of the park. She didn’t smile in greeting, but she called Kurosaki by name easily like an old friend.

“Hey, Ichigo.”

He did smile as he greeted, “What’s up, Halibel?” Kurosaki gave her a quick hug that she returned. “Been a while. This is my friend, Ishida Uryuu.”

They bowed to each other slightly, not too polite and not too casual. She seemed like a very serious and self-assured woman. Uryuu wondered how she would interact with Kurosaki in an informal setting.

Halibel gave Uryuu a thorough once-over, much like Muguruma had at the club except without the sexual undertones. “Have you ever taken MDMA before?”

“No,” he admitted. “I haven’t taken anything stronger than aspirin.”

She nodded to hear her assumption confirmed. “Well, just be sure to drink some water throughout the night, or you’ll wake up with the worst hangover of your life tomorrow morning.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny plastic bag bearing two white tablets.

“How much?” Uryuu asked, reaching for his wallet.

Kurosaki touched his wrist to stop him and discreetly traded his friend some cash for the pills as he said, “I’ve got this round.”

“But it was my idea.”

With a smile, he reasoned, “You’re hosting, right? We’re square.”

Uryuu couldn’t argue since he wasn’t hip to hook-up etiquette. Hesitantly, he said, “Thanks,” and dropped it.

“I wanna see you at my next show,” he told Halibel, who nodded obligingly and went on her way.

Once she was out of earshot, he looked at Kurosaki. “She seems…nice?”

Laughing at Uryuu’s blatant subtext, he said, “Halibel is old-school tough. She used to run with the yakuza.”

“Are you serious? How did you meet her?”

He headed for home as Kurosaki shared that origin story.


	2. Part 2

Conversation flowed smoothly between them all the way to his apartment building, up the stairs, and across the threshold of his unit. But once they were standing in his personal space, Uryuu felt the dream-state splinter to let reality soak through. What the hell was he doing!?

“Wow,” Kurosaki said, unwittingly derailing his impending existential crisis. “I’m on your wall.”

Joining him in the living area, Uryuu glared at the poster his guest had spotted and inwardly groaned in embarrassment. He hadn’t bothered to redecorate since he had moved in at age eighteen. But Kurosaki turned to him with a flattered grin.

“ _Inertia Society_ are on my wall. You just happen to be in the picture.” Uryuu pointed to another poster by the TV and said, “ _Brutal Amoeba_ are up there, too.”

“Why can’t you admit you’re a fanboy?” Kurosaki asked, resting his hands on Uryuu’s hips and leaning close like he had in the alleyway. “I think it’s really—sexy.”

He forced a frown. “You were thinking ‘cute’ again, weren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

He started to pull away but Kurosaki wouldn’t let him. His arms drew Uryuu against his chest and he dipped down for a surprisingly forceful kiss, considering how he’d been pacing himself earlier. Apparently, Kurosaki was approaching his limit for holding back his urges. Uryuu was kind of shocked by how much it excited him. He was incredibly interested to see how Kurosaki would act once he had a potent love-pill pumping through his bloodstream.

“Water,” Uryuu broke the kiss to gasp. “We need water to take those.”

In the kitchenette, he poured two tall glasses of water and came back to hand one to Kurosaki. He sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside him for Uryuu to follow suit.

Slipping the baggie from his pocket, Kurosaki held onto it and said, “Before we take these, I need to ask you a question you’re probably not gonna want to answer. But I hope you’ll tell me the truth, Ishida, because it matters.”

“Okay…” he nervously acknowledged. “What is it?”

“Have you ever been with a man?” Kurosaki was right, he absolutely did not want to answer that question. He read it in Uryuu’s expression and pressed, “Have you been with anyone?”

“What difference does it make? We’re both adults—”

“It matters,” he firmly repeated.

Uryuu exhaled sharply in agitation. “Fine. The answer is no, all right? I haven’t been with anyone. So, what?”

“So,” said Kurosaki, gently grasping his hand to defuse his defensiveness, “we’ll take it nice and slow the first time.”

Although he winced on the phrase ‘first time,’ Uryuu didn’t disagree that it couldn’t hurt to take things easy in the beginning. The reason he had suggested molly was so he wouldn’t be insanely nervous to get naked with another person. He wasn’t going to tell Kurosaki that. He hoped it wasn’t obvious.

Uryuu snatched the bag from him and took out a pill to toss back immediately, before he could wimp out and decide to forget this entire escapade. He downed half a glass of water after it and set it down with a defiant _clack_. Kurosaki’s lips twitched like he wanted to laugh at Uryuu’s exaggerated antics, but he didn’t. He took his own pill with much less melodrama and sat back to watch him.

“How long does it take to kick in?”

“Twenty to thirty minutes,” Kurosaki responded. “Usually lasts a few hours.”

Having an idea of what to expect was marginally reassuring. Uryuu sat back and waited, trying not to fidget in the meantime. He looked at Kurosaki as something occurred to him.

“While I’m still sober, I should tell you,” he began, scrounging up all of his courage to say it without stammering awkwardly, “in case there’s any question of consent later, I’m saying ‘yes’ now.”

“Yes…to what?” asked Kurosaki with a wary look.

“Anything—everything—I don’t know. Whatever we may end up doing together. I consent.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “That’s generous. Sure you’re cool with just handing me a blank check?”

Uryuu took a deep breath and provided some important caveats, “I’m not into pain or humiliation, but I won’t object if you’re a little rough. I don’t have toys or anything like that and wouldn’t particularly care to use them if I did. You can touch me wherever but don’t tickle my feet; it’s uncomfortable.” He knew he was blushing furiously and he didn’t care. Getting the chance to have sex with Kurosaki was worth it, even though he had to say, “If you want to fuck me, you’ll have to use a condom until you get tested.”

A brief but smothering silence followed Uryuu’s very matter-of-fact speech. He half expected Kurosaki to laugh at him, but he didn’t. He nodded responsibly like he was making a mental note of all the key points.

“I think I can handle that. Anything else?”

“Um…” There was one more thing. The most embarrassing thing of all to mention aloud. “I sort of like it when you’re…aggressive with me.”

Something dangerous flitted across Kurosaki’s features. His pitch dipped to ask, “Like how I pinned you against the wall and slid my tongue into your mouth?”

Downplaying how hearing it affected him, Uryuu quietly replied, “Y-yes, like that.”

“Good to know.”

He looked away from Kurosaki’s dark eyes and licked his lips as the back of his neck broke out in gooseflesh. Lust was practically radiating off him. Uryuu swore he could feel it lapping against his skin like a warm tide.

“I’ll play some music,” he announced, standing from the sofa with a frisson of frenetic energy. “Any requests?”

Fiddling intently with his music player, he didn’t hear Kurosaki rise and cross the room to stand beside him. Uryuu twitched to look up and find him hovering so close.

“You’ve got some sweet beats,” Kurosaki said approvingly as he flicked through the library of artists. Singling out an early EP of theirs, he said, “But I need you to delete this album immediately.”

“Why? ‘Edge of the Eclipse’ has one of your best solos.”

His eyes roamed Uryuu’s face thoughtfully. “I wrote that solo. Most people hate it.”

“Well, I love it and I’m not deleting anything.”

“I like you,” Kurosaki suddenly proclaimed, “and I don’t say that often.”

Uryuu blinked at him, momentarily dumbstruck. He recovered to scoff and say, “Right. Next, you’ll tell me you never go home with your fans after a show.”

“I don’t. I’ve never slept with a fan before.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure, Kurosaki. You’re the world’s only virtuous guitarist. Congratulations.”

Frowning in the wake of Uryuu’s vicious sarcasm, he said, “I’m telling the truth, Ishida. Don’t take your self-esteem issues out on me.”

Kurosaki’s comment struck a chord and he didn’t try to hide it. “I’m going to take a shower,” he snapped, and strode away from him.

Uryuu washed quickly but thoroughly, muttering ‘fuck’ under his breath over and over the whole time.

Maybe he was panicking a bit, but he really wondered if he was going to regret his decision to bring Kurosaki home with him. Even if he was, it was too late to turn back now. By the time he was toweling off and slipping fresh clothes on, Uryuu took an extra minute to appreciate how the material felt against his skin. The textures had become fascinating in a way he’d never realized before. And he knew it was starting.

To earn himself a little more alone-time, he offered his shower to Kurosaki as soon as he stepped out. Maybe he wanted alone-time, too, because he took Uryuu’s suggestion without a word.

While Kurosaki was taking his turn to get squeaky-clean, he sprawled on his couch and stared up at the panels of his suspended ceiling. There were patterns there, constellations that seemed to shift subtly as Uryuu watched. Nothing about his ceiling had changed from how it had always been. It was his perception that had changed. He was just more _aware_ of everything. From the hush of his apartment to the temperature of air on his skin. Soft give of cushions beneath him. White noise of water running in the background. Lights shining in through slatted blinds from the street outside. Wood grain of his coffee table. Slow tide of breath in and out of his lungs.

Uryuu shifted his head a fraction and became aware of how his damp hair felt on his scalp. He got the strangest urge to run his fingers through it, so he did. It felt nice. He kept loosely combing the strands, fingertips stimulating nerve endings he didn’t know he had. Curious to discover if it applied elsewhere, Uryuu trailed one hand down the side of his neck and the curve of his shoulder. He closed his eyes and sighed at how wonderful that felt. Continuing down his chest over his shirt, he didn’t think to shift it up until he got to his navel. When fingertips touched bare skin, he moaned softly, tracing leisurely circles around his belly button. His hips swirled all on their own, calling to him for attention next.

“What are you doing?”

Uryuu froze, eyes snapping open to see Kurosaki standing by the opposite end of the couch. He snatched his hands away from his body and sat upright as he said, “Nothing,” utterly inconspicuously, as if he hadn’t just been feeling himself up. “What are _you_ doing?”

“Getting turned on by whatever you _weren’t_ just doing,” Kurosaki answered forwardly. He was wearing a spare set of clothes from his bag. True to his prior comment, he looked like anyone else in normal clothes. Except for his hair. Sinking to sit across from Uryuu, he asked, “It’s starting to hit you, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“Me, too. I just got really distracted by how the soap felt on my…” Trailing off with a smirk, Kurosaki left the rest to his imagination. “Anyway, it’s gonna get a lot stronger soon. Speak up if you get overwhelmed and we’ll grab a snack. Food can help dull the intensity of most drugs.”

“I know,” Uryuu told him, “I’m a doctor.”

“Have I mentioned that’s kinda hot? I’m into smart guys.” Kurosaki was staring at him like he wanted to swallow him whole. Uryuu sipped his water and listened to the music that was still playing on his sound system. Crawling across the cushions to cage him in against the armrest, Kurosaki looked down at him with half-lidded eyes. “Are you ready for this, Ishida?”

Honestly? He wasn’t sure. But he let Kurosaki take his glass and set it on the table before ducking down to kiss him.

Uryuu gasped at how different it felt. How _heightened_. His senses were straining to savor every sensation Kurosaki was giving him. The heat and pressure of his mouth. The wet glide of his tongue. The teasing press and drag of his teeth over Uryuu’s lower lip. Kurosaki wasn’t touching him anywhere else at all, but it felt like his kiss sparked along every neuron in Uryuu’s body to signal the red alert. One solid minute was all he could take before he needed to pause for breath.

“Kurosaki,” he whispered, already panting softly.

Reading it all over Uryuu’s face and body language, he said, “Told you it would get intense, didn’t I? Wonder what’s gonna happen when I touch you.”

Kurosaki drew his fingertips down Uryuu’s throat, shoulder, and chest the same way he had done to himself moments ago. His breath hitched. Kurosaki lifted up his shirt. Uryuu’s spine arched shallowly. He tensed to see Kurosaki bending down, and when he hotly kissed Uryuu’s navel, he moaned even louder than before. A warm, slippery tongue curled there, right above his waistband. His abs clenched and his cock tingled.

“ _Kurosaki_ ,” he called again, more urgently.

He came back up to suck and nibble on Uryuu’s ear lobe. “If you keep calling my name like that, Ishida,” he huskily warned, “I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ mind.”

Making a short sound like a mewl as Kurosaki went back to teasing his ear, he threatened, “Don’t you dare make me come in my pants.”

He quit sucking Uryuu’s lobe to smirk at him instead. “Guess we should get ‘em off, then.” Kurosaki let him up, proposing, “Wanna move to your bed while we’re at it?”

Uryuu nodded and got another gulp of water in before he was dragged off to the bedroom.

Kurosaki shut the door behind them and trapped him against it.

“I live alone,” Uryuu observed. “Why did you close the door?”

“Because you’ve got neighbors, and this is gonna get loud.” He opened his mouth to challenge that claim, but moaned instead when Kurosaki rocked their hips together. “God, I love hearing you moan like that.”

Uryuu’s skin was on fire. He could feel, acutely, every single point of contact between their bodies. Their very hot, firm bodies that seemed to fit together as snugly as puzzle pieces.

In spite of how breathless he was, he breathed, “Pervert.”

Kurosaki laughed breathlessly, proving he was just as helpless to this as Uryuu. “Says the guy who wanted to take E for his first time.”

“Because I’m nervous, dumbass. You’re kind of a big deal to me.”

He blinked twice, desperately praying he hadn’t actually said that out loud, but Kurosaki’s astounded expression ripped his hope to shreds.

“You’re a big deal to me, too,” he said, touching Uryuu’s cheek tenderly. “A huge deal, actually.”

“Enough, Kurosaki. I’m not naive enough to believe—”

“I’m serious, Ishida,” he insisted, dropping his arms and straightening to speak his piece. “Not all dudes in bands are total sluts. I haven’t had sex with anyone in over three months and before that it was one guy for, like, a year and a half. So, stop assuming I only came here for a cheap thrill. It’s insulting.”

Unsure what to make of that monologue, Uryuu swallowed thickly. The main reason he needed to believe Kurosaki was only there for a one-night stand was because he wanted _so much_ to believe he wasn’t. Uryuu wanted to feel chosen, valued. He wanted to think Kurosaki had picked him out of a massive mountain of potential partners and said, ‘this one. I want him.’ To hear him adamantly asserting exactly that was both painful and blissful. Uryuu resisted, and it hurt more.

“Fine,” he said and felt a wild burst of relief. “I believe you.”

He shoved Kurosaki backward and tackled him to the bed, kissing and shifting and groaning in a carnal haze. Uryuu yanked his shirt up, almost tearing seams in his haste to get it off. He let Kurosaki pull off his shirt in return. Just the feeling of their bare chests meeting almost made him lose control.

Uryuu’s breath caught as Kurosaki rolled them over to switch positions. Since both of them were wearing bottoms with elastic bands, he simply pushed his own pants and boxers down at the same time. Uryuu’s eyes widened slightly to see his full erection spring free from beneath the dark fabric. Kurosaki’s dick was hefty, but not so thick that Uryuu was guaranteed to have a tough time taking it in. If they were careful, he figured he could take it just fine.

Touching his waistband next, Kurosaki paused to ask, “Ready?”

Uryuu nodded, and lifted his hips to help as his bottoms were slid smoothly down his legs. The friction threw tiny sparks of pleasure all the way down, and he bit his lip to keep from moaning over it. There was nothing he could do when Kurosaki lowered to introduce their fully nude bodies. Uryuu cried out and arched against him, a hair’s breadth from orgasm.

“I’m gonna come,” he said in a rush. Kurosaki’s response was to give him a filthy kiss and grind their erections together. And Uryuu came so hard he saw an explosion of color behind his eyelids. He heard Kurosaki groan and felt a hot splash low on his stomach. They panted against each other for a long moment. Then Uryuu rolled his hips and incredulously murmured, “I’m still hard.”

“So am I,” Kurosaki related with a weak huff of laughter. “Too much foreplay.”

He shifted to lie beside Uryuu and started kissing the curve of his throat. Kurosaki clasped one of his hands intimately. The other massaged and rubbed across Uryuu’s shoulder, chest, and side. When his hand reached the cooling product of all that foreplay, he volunteered to go grab a towel for him.

Kurosaki returned from the bathroom with a warm, damp hand towel and smiled as he passed it over. Then he went back to kissing his neck while Uryuu used the towel and set it aside.

“Is there something special about my neck that makes you want to keep kissing it?”

Kurosaki hummed against it and replied, “Yeah, but if I tell you what it is, you’ll get mad.”

“Is it because you think my neck is ‘pretty’?” he asked in a flat tone.

The kisses stopped but his lips remained. “Maybe.”

He was right again: Uryuu got mad. “Are you sure you don’t want to be with a woman instead?”

Moving to get off the bed, he made a noise of objection as Kurosaki pulled him back down and braced above him so he couldn’t escape.

“Why do you think it’s demeaning for a man to be called ‘pretty’? If you called me pretty, I’d just say ‘thank you’.”

“Because when most men say that type of thing, it’s intended to be offensive.”

Arching an eyebrow, he pointed out, “We’re not ‘most men,’ Ishida. We’re men who are attracted to other men.”

“I know, but I just…” Uryuu sighed, resigning himself to sharing one of his greatest insecurities. “I’m used to hearing it in a negative way, all right? I got called things like ‘pretty boy’ and ‘girly man’ and ‘femme’ all through high school. I don’t want to associate those feelings with you.”

Kurosaki nodded understandingly. “Okay. I get it. But for the record, those kids were idiots. There’s nothing wrong with being a pretty boy. It just means guys like me are gonna notice you.”

“Hm. Well, in that case, maybe I should hang around outside of clubs looking lost more often.”

“You better not,” he said, kissing Uryuu hard. “If you really think I’m not enough for you, we can always call Kensei and Shuu over to join in.”

“ _What_?” he squawked because Kurosaki almost sounded serious.

“Oh, yeah, they’d fuck you in a heartbeat. I saw the way they were looking at you in the green room.”

“No, but…aren’t they together?”

“Yup. They’ve got an open relationship, though. Years ago I slept with Shuu, then Kensei, then Shuu and Kensei.” He grinned wickedly. “It was _hella_ fun. Kensei can be very aggressive. You’d love it.”

He went back to kissing Uryuu, so it was difficult to say, “Tell me you’re…not actually suggesting…we have a foursome!”

Kurosaki blinked innocently at him. “Why not? You don’t think they’re hot?”

“That’s not the problem,” he said, shaking his head at the man’s audacity. “I told you I’m a virgin—”

“Well, not after tonight.”

“And you’re trying to talk me into group sex!” Uryuu finished as if he hadn’t interrupted.

“I’m just putting it out there. No pressure, okay? Think about it, Ishida.”

Then Kurosaki scooted down his body and started sucking him off without warning. Uryuu scrabbled at the blanket below him as his heart shot into high gear between one second and the next. He tilted his head back and moaned loudly in shock because Kurosaki was already deep-throating him. As if Uryuu hadn’t come fast enough the first time around, now this fool was trying to break his record!

“K-Kurosa—slow d— _Unh_!” Uryuu came, gasping and trembling from the speed and strength of his second climax. He weakly raised his head and glanced down to catch Kurosaki smugly licking the corner of his mouth. “Damn it, you…”

“Don’t worry, there’ll be way more build up for next one.”

Struggling to prop up on his shoulders, Uryuu demanded, “Exactly how many times do you plan on making me come!?”

“As many times as I can,” he said like it should have been obvious. Kurosaki laughed at his aghast expression. “What’d you think? One-and-done?”

“Isn’t that how it normally goes?”

“Not when you’re high on ecstasy.”

Uryuu flopped back to the mattress with a dismayed huff. “I’m going to die. My heart will give out on orgasm number six or seven, and I’m just going to die.”

Kurosaki was still laughing at him, which made Uryuu want to retaliate. He somehow summoned the energy to push him down and straddle him. Stretching to reach his bedside table drawer, he took out a modest bottle of lube he used for those morning ‘self-care’ sessions Kurosaki had mentioned. Uryuu squirted out a good dollop of it and spread it over Kurosaki’s erection, relishing the way he tensed and groaned a little.

“Don’t tease me,” he begged, running his hands up and down Uryuu’s thighs. “I’m already dying to come.”

He started stroking slowly and asked Kurosaki, “Is that reverse psychology? Do you secretly want me to take my time?”

Shaking his head, he answered, “No, I’m really aching for it. Look.”

They both glanced at the stiff cock Uryuu was fondling. As if on cue, precome welled out of the reddened tip and Kurosaki moaned pitifully. Uryuu’s eyes flared to see how close he was just from a few loose pumps.

“Why are you so horny?” he had to ask.

Kurosaki gave him a weird look and said simply, “Because you’re touching me.” Recognizing Uryuu’s confusion, he rephrased, “Because _you_ are the one who’s touching me, Ishida.”

He had nothing to say to that, but he felt a warm bubble expanding in his chest to see the way Kurosaki stared at him.

Uryuu tightened his fingers, sped up his pace, and bent down to kiss Kurosaki as he finally got what he needed. The bad boy guitarist whined and squirmed between Uryuu’s legs right before he started to come. Kurosaki’s hips thrust up a handful of times, fucking Uryuu’s fist to milk every last drop of come from his cock. It was so erotic, he sighed right along with Kurosaki as he stilled in sated fatigue.

It was only after he let go that Uryuu realized how tightly Kurosaki had been gripping his thighs.

“I think you just gave me a few bruises,” Uryuu idly commented.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.” Kurosaki rubbed at the pale handprints he’d left on Uryuu’s skin.

Identifying genuine concern in his actions, he said, “It didn’t hurt, Kurosaki.” Actually, it was sort of sexy how he’d been so lost in the pleasure that he grabbed Uryuu like that. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Kurosaki said, but he sat up to kiss Uryuu sweetly in unspoken apology. “Wanna take a quick break? Get some water?”

That was an excellent idea. He pulled his lounge pants back on without the underwear. After cleaning up a bit, Kurosaki pulled his boxers back on without the pants. They went into the living room and finished their glasses of water as they gave their bodies a rest. But as Uryuu sat watching him, he knew the reprieve couldn’t last. His desire for Kurosaki hadn’t dampened in the slightest.

“Do you have condoms?” Uryuu asked.

“Fuck,” he cursed bitterly. “No, I don’t. Should’ve asked Shuu for a couple while we were at the club.” Setting down his empty glass, he offered, “I’ll go get some.”

“I want to go with you.”

Kurosaki smiled in a way that made him feel obnoxiously giddy for no apparent reason.

They got dressed and headed down the block to a nearby twenty-four hour corner store. Before they went in, he drew Uryuu aside and said, “Wait, lemme fix your hair.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Kurosaki didn’t answer, but the way he bit his lip against a snicker said enough. Uryuu stood still to let him comb and pat it into submission. It felt very nice in a completely non-sexual way. When he was done, Kurosaki said, “There. Now it doesn’t look like you just fell out of a tornado,” and kissed his forehead. That kiss only made the giddy feeling worse.

The door chimed as they walked into the store. Uryuu bowed to the clerk he recognized from previous late-night visits. He had been shopping there for years. It had served him well for study break refreshments all through university. There were times he’d visited so frequently some of the clerks still knew him by name.

“Evening, Ishida-kun!” chirped the cheerful girl behind the counter.

“Good evening, Shirasawa-san.”

Kurosaki made a beeline for the condoms and lube corner. Uryuu cringed preemptively as he tagged along, knowing checkout would be awkward. But sacrifices had to be made so he could finally get laid.

He watched Kurosaki pick a box and grab extra lube just in case. Then he went to the drink and snack section.

“Do you like these?” he asked Uryuu, holding up a popular yogurt drink. “I heard they’re good for electrolytes or something.”

“Sure.”

The truth was he didn’t care much about food because he was too distracted by all the bright colors surrounding them. It was like the saturation had been dialed up to ten, emphasizing the kaleidoscopic hues of every product lining the shelves. The overhead lights were dreadfully bright. Uryuu figured that meant his pupils were blown wider than the cover of a cop who couldn’t lie. He peered at Kurosaki’s eyes to confirm.

“What?” he asked, noticing the scrutiny.

“Are my pupils dilated?”

He leaned closer to check and replied, “Yeah, they’re huge. Are mine?”

“Yes.”

Uryuu kissed him, entirely on accident, and reared back with a quiet smack. “Sorry.” He took a step away from Kurosaki just to be safe.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because we’re in public,” he said, glancing around in demonstration. “Someone might see us.”

“I don’t give a shit who sees us kissing,” Kurosaki declared with the exact same disgruntled look from the alley. Was that his go-to ‘I’m a badass’ expression? “I didn’t complain when you kissed me in the middle of the concert—twice—did I?”

“That was different.”

“Was the subway different, too?” Uryuu sighed with exasperation, but Kurosaki forged on, “You even held my hand most of the way to the park. _Now_ , you wanna get shy? After we’ve spent the past hour making each other c—”

In a panic, Uryuu put his palm to Kurosaki’s loud mouth. “It’s different because the people here know me, okay?”

“Apparently not,” he lowered Uryuu’s hand to say, “if you’re working this hard to hide that you’re gay. I bet none of the clerks here care who you’re into. They’re probably just happy to see you ‘cause you’re always nice to them.” Kurosaki paused, raised his eyebrows in challenge, and goaded, “Am I wrong?”

“About which part?”

“Any of it.”

Uryuu scowled because he couldn’t say that Kurosaki was wrong, but he argued, “Statistically, some of the clerks here would want to shun me if they knew. Our culture isn’t kind to outliers, Kurosaki.”

“Yeah, well, _statistically_ you’re an idiot for giving a flying fuck whether they’d shun you or not.” He moved closer to Uryuu in his righteous enthusiasm. “Don’t you get it? If you let them decide how you live your life, you’re giving them power over you. You’re letting them take your strength away, Ishida. And they don’t deserve to take any part of you.”

There it was. The passion and individuality that he loved about Kurosaki. They were two of his most attractive qualities. So were his courage, his sense of justice, his compassion, and his loyalty. Right then, Uryuu felt like the blessed recipient of the lot, and then some. He felt his physical desire for Kurosaki merge with the emotional and amplify each other beyond what he could tolerate.

Right there in the middle of the corner store where he’d been a regular customer for over six years, Uryuu threw his arms around Kurosaki’s neck and kissed him desperately.

He made a startled sound as Uryuu’s momentum compromised his balance and made him stumble backward against an endcap. They heard a few items clatter to the floor, but neither of them cared. Kurosaki held him tightly and kissed him just as intently. He made the same soft sounds of yearning that Uryuu did. They started to get hard at the same time, too.

And that’s when he snapped back to reality and broke the kiss to urgently say, “Kurosaki, If we don’t get out of here soon, we’ll both be arrested for public indecency before we make it back to my apartment.”

Astonishingly, he didn’t complain. He nodded and picked up the lube he’d dropped, then grabbed Uryuu’s hand and led him up to the front counter to check out. Dumping his items onto the counter, Kurosaki showed the young clerk a friendly smile as though nothing was shameful at all about buying condoms, lube, and some snacks in the middle of the night with another man standing beside him. Uryuu wished he could know what that felt like one day.

“Did you guys find everything okay?” asked Shirasawa, glancing between them inclusively as she rang up and bagged everything. Either she was an extremely professional clerk, or she shared Kurosaki’s freakish lack of modesty about sex.

“Yes, thank you,” Uryuu said to the floor.

“Great! Well, your total’s going to be twelve hundred and forty yen, please.”

Kurosaki had his chained wallet out before Uryuu could try to pay in exchange for the ecstasy. “Thanks,” he said as Shirasawa handed back his change.

“Have a wonderful night!” she exuberantly trilled as they left.

On the walk back, Uryuu optimistically decided, “I don’t think she realized.”

“Oh, she _definitely_ realized,” Kurosaki argued without hesitation. “She thought to herself, ‘well, these two hot dudes are about to go fuck each other’s brains out,’ and she wasn’t remotely tempted to shun you for it.”

“I am one thousand percent sure she did not think anything of the sort. She probably thought we both have girlfriends waiting for us somewhere and we just happened to visit the store together.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re delusional, Ishida. Do you want me to go back and ask her? ‘Excuse me, miss, but did you happen to pick up on the subtext that I’m buying condoms tonight so I can have epic sex with my gorgeous boyfriend?’”

Uryuu halted in the middle of the sidewalk. Kurosaki turned to him in confusion.

“ _Boyfriend_?”

One word. A daunting list of implications. And for the very first time since they’d met hours ago, Kurosaki blushed.

“No, I…it-it just came out,” he stammered with a wide ‘what are you gonna do?’ gesture. “In my head, we were boyfriends for the scenario. I don’t know.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking immensely uncomfortable. He was still blushing. “F-forget I said it, okay?”

“You _like_ me,” whispered Uryuu in open awe.

“Well, yeah, I told you that already. You said you believed me.”

Shaking his head, he admitted, “I didn’t. Not really.”

“But now you do?”

“You called me your _boyfriend_.”

Kurosaki grimaced. “Can you quit saying it like that? It’s not a dirty word, you know.”

The unfortunate fact was, to Uryuu it had always been a dirty word. Taboo. In the medical world, much like business and politics, sexual preference was not a spectrum. It was strictly binary, and for a man to ever use the phrase ‘my boyfriend’ was tantamount to social suicide.

Yet, when Kurosaki said it, that word didn’t seem so bad. Just hearing it in his voice gave Uryuu a belly full of jittery butterflies. He wanted Kurosaki to use that word. He wanted to hear it all night long.

Uryuu stepped up beside him, took hold of his hand, and confessed, “I like you, too, Kurosaki. And I’ve never said that to anyone before.”

The look on his face was the embodiment of everything Uryuu had felt in the store right before he’d attacked. So, he really should have been expecting it when Kurosaki suddenly detoured to the nearest alley and kissed him like a lunatic. He backed Uryuu up against the cinder block wall, considerately cradling his head, and just went wild. They were both still excited from the last time they had kissed like this. The MDMA in their blood was at its peak. He was going to come, completely untouched.

Breaking the kiss to call Kurosaki’s name in warning, he gasped instead as he was spun around to brace against the wall. Uryuu covered his own mouth to muffle a moan when Kurosaki’s hand slid down his stomach, under his waistband, and firmly gripped his rigid dick. The other hand took turns rubbing his nipples and roaming his torso beneath his shirt. Uryuu thought to object. They were breaking the law! But he was too turned on by that very fact to complain sincerely. He wanted Kurosaki to press him up against the dirty grey wall and stroke his cock tight and fast, make him spill come all over the filthy alley floor. He loved every god damned part of it.

Uryuu moaned pleadingly before, during, and after he came just the way he wanted to. Kurosaki flipped him around again and kissed him messily as he struggled to recover. He eased up to let Uryuu breathe, murmuring his name into an ear before sucking and tonguing it instead. Shuddering for both, he clenched his fists into Kurosaki’s shirt as he made a decision that threatened to get him hard all over again.

It was Uryuu’s turn to hold him by the hips and shove him against the wall. He lowered to his knees in front of Kurosaki, enjoying the way his eyes flashed to see where this was going. Unlike his ravenous assault on Uryuu in the bed, he had to take this in steps. Kurosaki was a little bigger than him and he wasn’t used to giving blow jobs. But Uryuu followed his instincts and let Kurosaki’s reactions guide him from there.

Beyond the actual sensation of a hot mouth sliding along his dick, Uryuu suspected he was getting quite a bit out of just watching it. Kurosaki couldn’t tear his eyes away. He was relishing the image of Uryuu kneeling between his feet with a hand curved around the base of his shaft while the shiny circle of his lips bobbed up and down its length. There was probably still a flush on his cheeks from his recent climax, and his half-lidded eyes were sure to be deep-ocean dark. If his expression looked anything like Kurosaki’s, he must have been presenting an exceptionally salacious picture.

It didn’t seem to take long before he tensed and said, “ _Stop_.” He made a very disappointed sound when Uryuu obeyed his order, but he didn’t take it back.

Rising from the ground, he held Kurosaki firmly against the wall with an arm barred across his chest. Uryuu started pumping him mercilessly as he stared straight into hazy brown eyes and demanded, “Come for me, Kurosaki. Right now.”

And Kurosaki came for him. Right then. With a shocked cry that echoed through the alley, because he never suspected Uryuu might have a dominant side, too. Or that it might excite him so much to be subjected to it.

Kurosaki fumbled his pants back up as he chased his breath. Uryuu wiped the come streaking his palm onto a cinder block and called it good until he could use his sink. It was disgusting, but it made him smirk.

“We should go,” Kurosaki said a tad hoarsely. “Right now.”

“It’s good to know you have _some_ sense of propriety,” Uryuu muttered as they began walking home at last.

He shook his head. “Not ‘cause I’m worried someone heard me. After what you just did, I’m way too tempted to fuck you right here in this alley.”

Choking on nothing at all, he whipped his head around to gape at Kurosaki. “You wouldn’t!”

“Your list of no-gos didn’t include dirty alley sex,” he reminded Uryuu with a sly grin. “You’re lucky I’m sentimental. I wanna rim and finger you for a nice, long time before I bury my cock in your tight, virgin ass.”

He nearly tripped over his own feet to hear Kurosaki utter such an outrageously X-rated sentence in such a smooth cadence. If Uryuu hadn’t come so very recently, he was certain he would have gotten rock hard just from hearing it. His face felt so hot he legitimately wondered if his ears were steaming.

“R-rimming—”

“Also wasn’t on your list,” Kurosaki interrupted before he could say anything. “No take-backs, Ishida. It’s not fair. And you do want me to play fair, don’t you?”

Uryuu’s knees felt weak and noodley. He was lightheaded and a little dizzy. The countless surges and spikes of pleasure endorphins Kurosaki kept causing in him were taking their toll. It felt like his entire central nervous system was on overdrive.

“Pass me one of those yogurt things,” Uryuu said waveringly instead of answering his unfair question.

Kurosaki snickered like he knew what Uryuu was feeling as he ripped off the cap and basically chugged the stuff. He upended the bottle in one go and gasped precious air after, wiping his mouth on a sleeve.

“You’re looking a little shaky there. Want me to carry you?”

“Fuck off, Kurosaki,” he grumbled, not fond of his mocking tone.

“Holy shit, you can swear? I had no idea!”

“I swear I’m gonna smack you if you don’t shut up.”

He laughed even harder at that, but Uryuu didn’t push him away when Kurosaki wound an arm around his waist to keep him close as they walked.


	3. Part 3

They collapsed to his couch and ate the snacks Kurosaki had picked for them. Uryuu bit into some sort of spongy cake-like thing with chocolate cream filling and groaned. Normally, he wasn’t prone to eating junk food because it made him feel tired. After the night he’d had, however, highly processed sugar was exactly what he needed. And it tasted _amazing_.

He looked up to catch Kurosaki staring at him with a goofy little smile on his face.

“You eat like a cat,” he told Uryuu, “small, careful bites.”

“Don’t watch me eat. It’s creepy.”

Undeterred from being creepy, he said, “You’ve got cream on your face,” and leaned forward to lick it off for him. “I love chocolate, by the way. In case you ever need an excuse to get me to lick you anywhere.”

“Finish your own snacks before deciding I’m one of them.”

Kurosaki chuckled around a mouthful of crisps. He chewed and swallowed to say, “You have a really unique sense of humor, Ishida. I like it.”

Now that he thought about it, he realized Kurosaki had been vibing with his humor all night. It was so dry and sarcastic most of the time that people tended to miss Uryuu’s jokes altogether. Kurosaki didn’t have that problem. Somehow, he could tell when Uryuu was cracking a wry joke versus being bluntly serious. That level of compatibility was exceedingly rare for him. Add it to the list of qualities he coveted in Kurosaki.

Staring at the half-eaten dessert he’d never tasted before, Uryuu mused, “Maybe it’s just the molly, but everything about this night from the moment we met feels like a wild fever dream. I keep wondering if I’m going to wake up in the morning and realize none of this actually happened. Because what are the chances that someone like you would…?”

He glanced over at Kurosaki and felt a sharp twinge of sadness in his chest to think he might not have been real.

It must have been all over Uryuu’s face, since Kurosaki moved forward to kiss him softly and vowed, “Except I’m still gonna be here when you wake up, and I’ll tell you it all happened just like you remember.”

Uryuu kissed him back. And Kurosaki kissed him again.

The next thing he knew, they were leaving a haphazard trail of clothes from the couch to his bed as they forgot all about their snacks and moved straight to the main course.

Thankfully, Kurosaki thought to grab the lube and condoms on the way, so there was no break in between furiously making out and the fun new activities to follow. Uryuu didn’t complain when their kiss was finally broken. He let Kurosaki guide him to prop on hands and knees atop the mattress.

Peeking over his shoulder, Uryuu asked, “Are you really going to—”

“Hell yes, I am. Did you think I was kidding?” Kurosaki rubbed his hands up and down Uryuu’s sides, kissing along the curve of his back as he instructed, “Tell me if you think you’re gonna come. I need you to stay hard while I’m fucking you or it won’t feel very good, even on ecstasy. Okay?”

Uryuu nodded and tried not to dwell on the fact that Kurosaki was staring right between his cheeks at the moment. And that he would have his face pressed there in another moment. He mentally thanked his past-self for insisting on taking a mood-altering substance for this. Without a shadow of a doubt, he knew his sober-self would not have been capable of withstanding the mortification otherwise.

For some misguided reason, he assumed Kurosaki would ease into it. A couple of kisses here, a few light laps there. Nice and slow, right? But no. No, no, no. He dragged the flat of his tongue up the crease of Uryuu’s ass from his balls to his tailbone, then started alternately swirling around the hole and probing into it assertively. Kurosaki went full-tilt from the beginning, mercilessly bombarding Uryuu with a devastating array of intriguing stimuli. It felt so good his arms buckled and he sank to brace on his elbows instead.

He groaned to feel his cock fill and stiffen inside of a minute. One more minute and it started dripping precome onto the blanket. One more after that, Uryuu gasped as his balls tightened and tingled. Half a minute more was all he could take.

“Kurosaki,” he called, shifting his hips away when one more lick would have ended it.

His hands nudged Uryuu to lie on his back next. Kurosaki didn’t kiss or touch him anywhere, except to suck and mouth a nipple. Uryuu squirmed a little and panted lightly. It wasn’t going to set him off, but it certainly kept his blood rushing. Once his nipple was pink and pebbled, Kurosaki moved on to the other.

Something seemed to occur to him, since he raised up to meet Uryuu’s eyes and asked, “You know about edging, right?”

He shook his head. “Should I?”

Kurosaki shrugged. “Only if you watch a lot of porn or talk to someone who does.” Tracing swirly designs across Uryuu’s abs, he explained, “It’s when you keep bringing someone to the brink of orgasm over and over without letting them come.” His eyes widened and Kurosaki bit back a smirk. “You’re already so close and I’m nowhere near done prepping you, which means…”

“You have to edge me, too,” Uryuu gathered from his overview. When Kurosaki nodded to confirm it, he ran his hands over his face and theatrically lamented, “I’m not making it through the night with my sanity, am I?”

“Sanity’s overrated anyway.”

He said that, but he didn’t go right back to it. He was waiting for Uryuu’s signal to continue.

“Well, get on with it, Kurosaki. We’ve gotten this far and I’m not about to back out now.”

“Nah, you’re not the type to run from a challenge,” he sagely agreed as he maneuvered between Uryuu’s spread thighs. “Besides, it’s gonna feel so fucking awesome when you do finally come that you’ll wanna do this again and again. It’ll be your favorite kink, you’ll see.”

“I don’t have kinks,” he argued, bending his knees to give Kurosaki more room.

“You’ve got kinks, Ishida, whether you know it or not. Everybody does. You already told me about one of them yourself.”

Uryuu heard the snap of a cap opening, then felt a slippery fingertip breaching a very sensitive place. He drew a long breath through his nose and exhaled slowly through his mouth.

“I don’t remember mentioning anything about a kink,” he said, less for the sake of argument and more to distract himself from the odd feeling of being invaded.

Kurosaki planted a palm beside his waist so he could lean over Uryuu to watch his expression. “You said you like it when I’m a little aggressive. Did you think that’s just everybody’s thing?” Kurosaki’s finger wiggled deeper inside him, making his breath hitch and ruining his attempts to regulate it. “Getting hot and bothered anytime I take control is one of your kinks. Just like hearing you moan my name is one of mine.”

His finger delved deeper still, and grazed something that made Uryuu jolt and shudder. “ _Kurosaki._ ”

“Yeah,” he breathed and licked his lips. “Just like that.”

“No, I’m— _Ah~_ ”

“Oh, shit.” He withdrew his finger a split-second before Uryuu could release. Kurosaki grinned to hear him groan over the close call. “I’ve never edged a guy before but this is really turning me on. You make the sexiest noises right when you’re about to come.”

Trying and failing to be more annoyed than aroused, Uryuu haltingly negotiated, “You should just let me come now…and I’ll get hard again later. If you have to keep…pausing every other minute…this is gonna take all night.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, plunging back inside with more lube and two fingers this time. Kurosaki worked him open, pressing Uryuu’s button sparingly but more than enough to keep him alarmingly close to climax. Backing off at the last second once again, he countered, “Tell me you’re not enjoying this and I’ll let you come right now.”

Of course, he couldn’t say that and they both knew it. He couldn’t even say he wasn’t enjoying this more than Kurosaki, who looked like he was having a blast.

“F-fine, just keep…torturing me ‘til I…completely lose it,” Uryuu said with difficulty. His sentences were getting shorter and shorter, breathing gone hopelessly ragged. He could barely make it through a full thought without his concentration slipping. “I’ll probably come…as soon as you start…fucking me, anyway.”

“We’ll see,” Kurosaki muttered dubiously. He was struggling to concentrate, too, judging by the scrunch of his brow. “You oughta be more worried about whether _I_ might come as soon as I start fucking you.”

“That would be…disappointing,” Uryuu agreed.

“Yeah, no joke. If I do, I’m not taking ecstasy a second time.”

Blinking at Kurosaki in mild surprise, he asked, “You’ve never…taken it before?”

He shook his head with a lopsided smile. “Not all guitarists are druggies, Ishida. Nicotine’s as hard as I ever go. And I’m actually trying to quit.”

Uryuu wanted to ask some important follow-up questions, but he gave a short hiss instead to feel Kurosaki adding a third finger. Was he really still that tight? Uryuu was sure he should have been relaxed enough to fit Kurosaki by now. But what did he know? He had never even watched gay porn!

“Kurosaki,” he said, going for exasperated. He just sounded desperate.

“Almost there.”

He said that, but it still took three more rounds of almost-bliss before he apparently decided Uryuu was ready for him. For someone who had never edged a guy before, Kurosaki was suspiciously good at it. Uryuu wasn’t about to declare it his favorite kink just yet, but he wouldn’t refuse another go of it in the future.

Kurosaki rearranged them again with Uryuu on his right side and left leg bent toward his chest. He watched Kurosaki settle in behind him and roll on a condom with nothing short of full-blown anticipation, making his heart pound as if he were sprinting up a hill. Uryuu held no reservations about this. Whether tonight or tomorrow, he knew he would never regret a single second of it.

His eyes were on Kurosaki’s face as he scooted closer and aligned himself, but he didn’t start pushing in right away. He kissed Uryuu’s neck and shoulder, running his hands over side and hip.

“What are you…waiting for?”

Kurosaki met his gaze and leaned in to kiss the corner of Uryuu’s jaw before answering, “For us to wind down a little so this will last more than thirty seconds.” He laughed and added, “I’d happily fuck you for thirty _minutes_ if I thought either of us had that kind of stamina.”

“First edging…now tantric? How many kinks…do you have?”

Kurosaki laughed again and cryptically replied, “Ask me that after we figure out a few more of yours.”

Uryuu took a breath to call him a pervert, but lost it in the rush of feeling Kurosaki begin to slide into him at last.

He didn’t come as soon as Kurosaki started fucking him. Not because it was painful or unpleasant, but because it was such a new and striking sensation that Uryuu just couldn’t fully process it at first. Once the novelty faded, he felt the pleasure ease back in.

“You feel so big, Kurosaki,” he said in awe, curling his fists around the bedspread. “Your cock is so hot, so hard inside me.”

Wrapping his arms around Uryuu’s torso, he moaned and rocked a little bit faster. “That’s how hard you make me, Ishida. You’re so fucking sexy.”

As much fun as he was having in this position, he knew it could get even better. There was no denying what Kurosaki had called his ‘kink’ when all he could think was, “I want you on top of me.”

“Yeah?” They rearranged with Uryuu on his back, legs spread and knees pushed up toward his chest. “Like this?”

Kurosaki squeezed back inside, and Uryuu dropped his head to the bed as he groaned. “Yes! As deep as you can go.”

Happily following his instruction, Kurosaki picked up the pace another notch. It almost drove them to their limit, but not quite. Uryuu didn’t understand how neither of them had come yet. He was wound up so tightly it seemed like a warm breath in the right place could have set him off.

“Your expression is so erotic,” Kurosaki told him between wet, messy kisses. “Am I making you feel that good?”

Uryuu didn’t have the words for how good it felt. He was glad his expression could speak for him.

“Kurosaki, I want…”

“Name it, Ishida. I’ll give you anything you ask.”

He was on the verge of going completely mad, stuck smack between needing the release and never wanting this to end. And Uryuu was embarrassed but he knew what he wanted. He knew Kurosaki would give it to him, even before he’d promised he would. So, Uryuu opened his eyes to lock with Kurosaki’s and let the last of his shame fade to nothing.

“I want you to hold me down and pound your cock into me as hard as you can until we both explode.”

He stared at Uryuu with this stunned expression that almost made him laugh. But then Kurosaki started to do exactly what he’d been asked to do, exactly as he’d promised he would. He captured Uryuu’s hands in his, fingers twining tightly, and held him to the bed as his hips moved faster. Kurosaki fucked him even harder and deeper than he’d imagined. Pinned to the bed, Uryuu was totally at his mercy. He loved every second of it.

He knew he was moaning too loudly. If any of his neighbors were home, they were getting an earful. Kurosaki wasn’t doing much better at keeping quiet. Especially when Uryuu started to come. Every muscle in his body constricted at once, including the place where they were connected. Kurosaki made a choked sound, then something like a whimper, and exhaled deeply.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned hoarsely as he kept rocking into him for a few more indulgent seconds. “Holy fucking _shit_ , Ishida, that was…” Kurosaki raised his head and groaned again at the sated expression Uryuu was showing him. “God damn, don’t look at me like that! Not unless you want me to get hard again in about ten seconds flat.”

He laughed wearily and shook his head. “As a doctor, Kurosaki, I can’t recommend it. The human body has its limits, you know.”

“Tell that to my dick,” he cheekily replied as he slid out of Uryuu and flopped beside him on the bed. Gazing down his own body, Kurosaki said, “I honestly think I could get it up for you one more time before my heart gives out. Your call.”

Uryuu kissed him in a way that made it clear he was willing, but far too tired to take him up on the offer. “I think four times is enough.”

“All right…I can’t promise not to try and break our record later.”

Ever the gentleman in punk’s clothing, Kurosaki went to fetch them a fresh towel for cleanup. In the handful of seconds that he was gone, Uryuu’s mind raced. All of the anxiety he’d been pushing away since they met came rushing back all at once as he thought of the casually mentioned ‘later’.

He hid those thoughts behind a smile when Kurosaki returned. There was no point in skipping to the ending Uryuu knew was inevitable.

The curtain had been drawn on just one side of the window when he awoke. Morning sunlight streamed into the room, highlighting the bottom half of his bed. Kurosaki was still there with him, laying in the opposite direction and propped up on his elbows. He had some sort of well-worn, dog-eared notebook open on the mattress in front of him. He had a look of concentration as he scribbled messy kanji onto the page.

When Uryuu sat up, he glanced back and flashed him a grin. “Morning. If I said you’re really cute when you sleep, would you kick me?”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t kick Kurosaki for calling him cute. Progress.

“What are you writing?” Uryuu asked. “Dream journal?”

“It’s a song.”

“About what?”

“You.”

“That’s such a cliché, Kurosaki,” he accused, pretending he wasn’t pleased.

“It’s a cliché for good reason, Ishida. Who doesn’t want someone to write them a love song?”

“It’s a love song?”

“What’d you think it was? A parody?” As though reading his thoughts, Kurosaki said, “I’m not using the words ‘pretty,’ ‘cute,’ or ‘beautiful,’ if that makes you feel any better.”

Annoyingly, it did make Uryuu feel better. “Can I read it?”

“Nope. Not ‘til it’s finished.” Then Kurosaki smirked at him and teased, “I’ll even sing it to you if you do something for me.”

“And what’s that?”

He shifted around until he was sitting beside Uryuu, still gloriously naked, and leaned in close to murmur, “Kiss me like you did last night in the store. Like all you ever wanted was my lips pressed to yours. Hands tugging me closer. Tongue searching for mine. Breath hot and fast between us.”

Although the drug they had taken had long since cleared their systems, he remembered how it had felt to kiss Kurosaki exactly as he’d described. The passion and desire of that moment returned at the memory, not diminished in the slightest, and Uryuu kissed him like all he ever wanted was Kurosaki’s lips pressed to his. Hands tugging him closer. Tongue searching for his. Uryuu felt the dizzy sway of intimacy urging him on. He wanted more. He would always want more.

But he broke the kiss to look at Kurosaki and smiled as if everything was fine.

“I’m going to take a quick shower. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

When Uryuu came out of the bathroom, Kurosaki was not in his apartment. Neither was his bag, or anything else he’d brought with him from the club. Uryuu gazed numbly across the room for a long moment.

Maybe it was better this way. Goodbyes were hard for everyone. Leaving without one was a kindness to them both.

He hadn’t changed his mind: he regretted nothing about spending the night with Kurosaki. Not the beginning, and not the ending. Not one thing.

Uryuu walked to his kitchen robotically and set to brewing a small pot of coffee. It was Sunday but he had plenty of chores to do. Preparations for his first week as a resident. He had promised himself he would meal prep lunches, at least, so he wouldn’t have to settle for cafeteria food every day. Clothes needed washing. His place needed tidying. The usual things.

It took him almost dropping his favorite mug on the floor to notice how bad his hands were shaking. There was a low humming like white noise in his ears and he realized it was probably because his heart was racing. Uryuu set the mug on the counter and braced against it, head dipping forward as he focused on his breathing. He saw a drop of water splash onto the counter. He knew it wasn’t sweat.

He straightened as he heard what sounded like a faint voice through the wall. No, not the wall. The front door.

Uryuu went to the door and pressed his ear against it. That voice belonged to Kurosaki. His whole body flushed warmly and started to tingle. He hadn’t left without a goodbye, he’d just gone outside to make a phone call!

Straining to make out the words, Uryuu listened with ever-increasing disbelief at what he heard.

“— _ver heels for the guy, Rukia. He’s really something else. So fucking clever. But he doesn’t lord it over people like Byakuya does. He has this eccentric sense of humor that just_ _pops_ _out of nowhere, making me laugh like an idiot. He’s a music-lover, too, and he_ _makes_ _these insightful comments like a serious musician would. Plus, y_ _ou already saw that he’s_ _sexy as hell, right? He’s even sexier_ _in bed_ _. I’m gonna be thinking about last night for a long time_.” Kurosaki chuckled roguishly as he listened to whatever question Kuchiki asked. “ _Yeah. Extremely compatible. No problems there_.” He paused again, then answered, “ _Well, can you blame me? You know I’ve got a_ _weakness_ _for cute, sensitive guys. I’m just_ _stoked_ _he’s into me, too._ ”

Uryuu wanted to be irritated about his relentless determination to call him cute, but he was too busy freaking out over accidentally eavesdropping on Kurosaki’s _love confession_. First, writing him a love song the morning after they had met, now this? And did he honestly think all those things about Uryuu? There was no reason for him to lie; Kurosaki didn’t seem the type to embellish and brag about his conquests. Gushing to a close friend about his new crush, however, seemed very in-character for him.

He stood frozen beside the door, expression blank like a lobotomy patient, for an unknown length of time as he struggled to process.

Jolting when he heard the handle turn, he scampered back to the coffee machine and resumed setting up as if he had been minding his business all along.

Kurosaki stepped inside, left his shoes and bag by the door, and shrugged out of the jacket he’d donned to ward off the early morning chill. He came over to kiss Uryuu on the cheek. A whiff of tobacco clued him in to the other reason Kurosaki had gone out.

“Smoke break?” he asked innocently while his heart thundered in his throat.

“Yeah. Didn’t want to light up in your apartment without asking, but I really needed a hit of nicotine. Told you that shit’s addictive.” Kissing a path up Uryuu’s throat, he said, “Not as addictive as you, though. I’m already hooked.”

When it became obvious that Kurosaki intended to get a hit of his newest addiction, Uryuu slipped out of his arms and quietly said, “We shouldn’t do this.”

“Don’t worry,” Kurosaki soothed, moving back in for another kiss, “if you’re sore, you can totally fuck me this time.”

“No, I mean…” It took all of Uryuu’s willpower to hold him at bay. He met Kurosaki’s eyes and solemnly clarified, “We shouldn’t have sex again.”

He straightened and stared. “Like, at all? _Ever_?”

It pained Uryuu deeply to have to tell him, “Out of all the men it could have been, I’m so glad I met you at that club. But I like you too much to keep this casual and neither of us has the time for a real relationship. Starting tomorrow, I’ll practically be living at the hospital for the next two years. You’re always traveling out of town for gigs and going on tour for weeks at a stretch. We’d be lucky to see each other a few times a month.”

He expected Kurosaki to see the sense in his reasoning and realize it wasn’t worth it. For an artist in their prime, monogamy was a tricky concept all on its own. Adding distance and time constraints on top of that was more than anyone could tolerate in a budding romance. Even if he had meant all the wonderful things he’d said to Kuchiki about Uryuu, a relationship with him simply wasn’t worth that much effort for so little reward.

Without a speck of hesitation, Kurosaki said, “I’m okay with that,” stunning Uryuu silent. He thought about it and amended, “I mean, it sucks, don’t get me wrong. I’d wanna see you every single day if I could. But a few days a month is still better than none at all. Besides, we can call and message each other a ton to make up for it.”

His heart rate matched the high-energy tempo of a drum ‘n bass beat. All he could say was, “What?”

Giving him a weird look, he said, “You really thought I’d walk way, just like that? Shit, you did…Wow, Ishida. How many times do I have to say I’m not the love ‘em and leave ‘em type before you get it?”

“This isn’t about promiscuity, it’s about rationality! Relationships take time and work, Kurosaki.”

“Yeah, I know. Better than you do. I’m still willing to give this a shot ‘cause that’s how much I like you. But if you don’t feel the same, then you can make your own decision. I’ve already made mine and I say we do this.”

Uryuu stood gaping, at a complete loss as his head swam with conflict. He changed his mind a hundred times over in the span of ten short seconds. Kurosaki wanted him so much he was willingly signing himself up for guaranteed strife. The choice that had seemed difficult a moment ago now felt impossible. Uryuu knew for a fact he would fall in love with Kurosaki if they kept seeing each other. What he didn’t know was whether or not it could last. And what would happen if it didn’t.

“I don’t want this to end right now,” he said in an unsteady voice, “but I’m not sure I could bear it if we have to end this later.”

Kurosaki embraced him gently, kissed the side of his jaw, and whispered, “I already can’t bear it, Ishida.” He could feel Kurosaki’s heart beating just as fast as his. “Please just say you’ll try?”

Uryuu shut his eyes and sighed. He raised his arms to hold Kurosaki in return.

“Yes.”


End file.
